


Stay tonight?

by marvelousstevetony



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Caretaking, Fluff, Getting Together, Hurt Steve Rogers, Hurt/Comfort, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, Light Angst, M/M, Protective Tony Stark, Sick Steve, Sickfic, Sneezing, Steve Rogers Needs a Hug
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-27
Updated: 2020-03-27
Packaged: 2021-03-01 05:13:23
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,019
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23345977
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/marvelousstevetony/pseuds/marvelousstevetony
Summary: Tony wouldn’t say he was startled — surprised but not startled — when the figure that was nearly collapsed over the kitchen table turned out to be the one and only Steve Rogers, his head buried in his palms. It wasn’t like it was the first time Tony had run into Steve in the middle of the night, however, this wasn’t under the usual circumstances.
Relationships: Natasha Romanov & Tony Stark, Steve Rogers & Tony Stark, Steve Rogers/Tony Stark
Comments: 11
Kudos: 121





	Stay tonight?

**Author's Note:**

> This is the first Steve/Tony fic I've ever posted, and I'm really excited about it!  
> Hope you'll enjoy it :)

As Tony exhaustedly stumbled his way towards his room at 4:20 AM, he decided to make a pit stop in the communal kitchen, as he supposed he should at least eat something after spending the entire night and the majority of the day before in the lab, perfecting his suit for the millionth time. 

He stifled a yawn and harshly rubbed his eyes, but then his body turned stiff at the muted sound coming from the room he was about to enter. Tony was curious by nature, and even though the efficiency of his brain were nearing the 50%, he still felt the need to examine the source of the noise. Just before turning around the corner to the kitchen he wondered who the hell (apart from himself of course, this had been a part of his daily routine for a while now) would be up at this atrocious hour. 

Tony wouldn’t say he was startled — surprised but not startled — when the figure that was nearly collapsed over the kitchen table turned out to be the one and only Steve Rogers, his head buried in his palms. It wasn’t like it was the first time Tony had run into Steve in the middle of the night, however, this wasn’t under the usual circumstances. 

Normally, Steve would be up and ready, drinking a glass of water, wearing his running gear and be ready to get out the door for his daily 10-mile jog. (Which wasn’t really a jog. For anyone else, Steve’s pace was basically their maximum speed, but that’s the perks of having a super-soldier-serum injected into you.) Today, however, Steve didn’t seem particularly lively and spry, which Tony found odd. His back was hunched over, a complete 180 from his usual perfect posture. He was wearing an oversized sweater, by which Tony was impressed, it was normally quite the challenge finding clothes that fit Steve’s muscular build let alone finding something that was too big. He looked so small, Tony thought to himself, which seemed impossible for someone Steve’s size. A strange unfamiliar feeling spread inside Tony’s chest, it was warm and uncomfortable, he thought, and tried to shake the feeling off before finally entering the kitchen. 

Steve was still leaned over the table, so Tony reckoned he hadn’t acknowledged him just yet. Under normal circumstances, Tony would’ve been slightly offended that Steve wasn’t able to just sense his presence, but he let this one slide. He cleared his throat to gain Steve’s attention, which had an immediate effect.   
Steve looked up, his eyes were bleary, and his hair was ruffled and messy, which Tony found strangely intriguing. He noticed how Steve’s face was abnormally pale, apart from his cheeks and the tip of his nose which were flushed slightly pink. He seemed rather confused, a bit disorientated perhaps, then squinted at Tony. 

“Oh, um… Tony?“ Steve croaked, voice was weak and fragile, then he coughed slightly.

“Morning Cap. I guess you’re already up for your daily suicide of a marathon,” Tony quipped, at which Steve huffed a laugh that launched at small coughing fit followed by a shaky wheeze. Tony narrowed his eyes, something was definitely off with Steve, Tony was sure of it. He just couldn’t quite put his finger on what exactly it was. 

Steve cleared his throat and blinked wearily. “Oh, actually I- snff- um, no… actually not.”

“Then why are you up at such an ungodly hour?” Tony raised an eyebrow, grabbed the nearest chair and sat backwards on it, still facing Steve.   
Steve leaned forward, his elbows resting on the kitchen table and copied Tony, raising one eyebrow. “Why are you up, huh?”

Tony followed his movement and also leaned forward. “Nuh-uh, Cap, that won’t work. I asked you first, you answer first,” Tony demanded and made a gesture with his hands. “So go on.”

Steve rolled his eyes and sighed. “I don’t actually know,” he shrugged, “I guess I just cou- snff couldn’t fall asleep, snf.” Just as he finished talking, Tony noticed the other man shiver, which he found odd. The air in the kitchen was rather warm, 75 degrees, and just looking at Steve wearing the thick knitted sweater made Tony overheat. 

Tony’s thoughts returned back to what Steve has just said, but he was unsure how to continue the conversation so he just blurted out the first thing that came to mind. 

“Huh, you fantasizing about me, Cap? That would surely explain your restlessness,” Tony smirked. He had wanted to retract it just as he’d said it, even more when Steve’s cheeks flushed bright red and ducked his head with a sheepish grin. 

“Sorry to dis- heh, snff, disappoint you,” Steve said as he rubbed his nose with the back of his wrist, “ but, uh… I- huh,” he suddenly trailed off, mouth hanging slightly open, eyes squinting at Tony. He drew in a sharp breath, burying his face in the crook of his elbow, pressing into the soft fabric of the sweater. Tony was confused. Was Steve about to-

“hehh… hehShoo! ehhTISH’oo! SNFF”

Oh. Oh. Tony’s eyes widened. “B- bless you?” he stammered, sounding like a question. Steve looked blearily up at him, “Oh, umb, snff… Thanks, Tony,” he murmured.

Silence filled the room. Tony didn’t know how to react to what was in front of him. He’d never seen Steve so vulnerable, so defenseless, so… human. Nothing about the great Captain America usually seemed this way to Tony. Steve was always so guarded and stiff, which usually made it very easy, almost too easy, for Tony to piss him off. 

But Steve was also so much else, Tony had to admit. He always had everything under control, much to Tony’s annoyance. Whenever he deliberately tried to infuriate Steve, he’d keep collected and act unfazed (however, sometimes when his composure breaks a tiny bit, Tony would notice, and seeing the irritated expression on Steve’s face would make his entire day). Steve was fearless and strong, nothing could ever keep him away from a situation pointed south.  
Tony had heard all about Steve as a child. Howard used to praise Steve all the damn time, and Tony hated him for it. No matter how hard he tried to make his father proud, he would never be as good as Captain America himself. Maybe that was why Tony had always felt a weird kind of resentment towards the good man. Captain America was simply flawless, so he was told

In this moment, however, as Steve was sitting there, looking so small and, to some extend, pathetic, Tony felt puzzled. This was an different Steve, a softer, more human Steve. Maybe he didn’t actually know Steve as well as he thought he did.

Some time had passed since the last words between the two had been said. The silence was only interrupted by frequent sniffles and small coughs until Steve spoke up.

“So you didn’t tell me why you’re still up.”

“Oh, y’know, just the usual. Well, really, I was in the workshop, fixing some upgrades and stuff. I was actually on my way to bed before I stumbled upon your pity-party in here,” Tony smirked. “I might also be trying to figure out a way to stop you and Thor from breaking all the punching bags and the rest of the gym equipment. Not because it’s expensive, it’s just a little inconvenient sometimes.”

Steve smiled drowsily at that. “Sorry.”

“Nah, don’t worry ‘bout it,” Tony waved a hand. “I just didn’t really fancy going to bed. Sleeping is overrated. A total waste of time.” 

Steve’s expression suddenly grew into a melancholic frown, his eyes lowered and his lips curled into a smile that Tony thought looked more sad as opposed to happy. He felt a faint pain in his chest, one he rarely felt, but something told him it was a little thing called compassion. Ugh, since when had that been a thing?

“Yeah, I guess so… snff I’m not the biggest fan of sleeping either. Mbaybe, snff , maybe that’s why I can’t seem to doze off,” Steve admitted and shrugged. 

Tony caught himself studying the face of the other man. Steve was way older than Tony, he’d been through more shit than one could imagine, but sitting there, body crumpled up and face flushed, Steve looked so young. His long, dark eyelashes glistened in the weak kitchen lights and Tony wondered if maybe Steve had been crying. The peculiar tug at his heart returned, and Tony swallowed thickly as he felt the urge to go over to Steve and wrap him into his arms. Steve looked like someone who desperately needed a hug. But Tony refrained form doing so. It would inappropriate. Why would Steve want a hug from him anyway. 

“Then I guess there’s actually one thing we have in common… Apart from wanting to ban Clint from choosing movies for movie-night,” Tony tried to lighten the mood, but Steve didn’t really react, just a small huff. The silence was deafening and Tony hated it. Tension filled the room and he knew it emanated from when he mentioned his issues with sleeping. He pondered for a few moments and then looked at Steve who was still looking like a sad puppy, and somehow his heart just couldn’t bear seeing Captain America this wrecked, both psychically and mentally. He had to do something about this.

“Hey Cap, I-,” Tony sighed before he continued, “Look, I know I might be the last person you want to talk to about this… about anything, probably, but I just want you to know that you can talk to me. I’m not known to be the best listener. I’m egoistic, or so I’ve been told, but I’ll try my best.” 

His heartbeat skyrocketed and he was afraid Steve would hear the thunderous pounding. When Steve didn’t answer, Tony was slightly disappointed but he didn’t blame him. It was a sensitive subject, one you talk to your friends about. 

“That’s not true, Tony,” Steve’s words were almost a whisper. “You’re not the last person I’d want to talk to… not at all, actually. I just…” Sigh. “I just can’t. Snff! You know, talk about it.” 

Steve voice cracked at the last part of the sentence. He sounded so… broken. 

“I didn’t think the word can’t was in your vocabulary,” Tony said and Steve smiled sadly at that. “And look, it’s hard. After Afghanistan I thought no one would ever be able to help or understand me. Turns out talking about that sort of stuff actually is helpful. Don’t tell Pepper, though, I’ll never stop hearing from it if she finds out I said that.” 

Steve sniffed and rubbed his nose with his knuckles, then swallowed as he took in a shaky breath. “I’m just so scared, Tony,” Steve sounded like he was within an ace of crying, his voice was so weak, almost inaudible. He burrowed his face in his palms and exhaled tremulously.

Tony frowned at what Steve had just said. What the hell was he scared of? Steve was the bravest man Tony had ever known, that was his thing. “Scared? Wait, no- Cap, you’re Captain America. That’s you, you hear me? You’re fearless. You’re basically the embodiment of a true Gryffindor,” Tony insisted. “Ugh, stupid Clint, we’ve watched too many Harry Potter movies lately,” he muttered under this breath.

Steve looked up form his hideout. Tears were forming in the corners of his eyes, it was a matter of seconds before they would start running down his cheeks. 

“That’s all I am,” Steve croaked. I wasn’t a question, more like a statement. “That’s all I ever will be. The fearless Captain America. I’m nothing more that.”

Tony’s heart sank at that. Oh god, what had he done. “That’s not what I meant.”

“No, you’re right. I- I can’t be scared. I have to-“

“Hey, stop! Don’t. Even. Just… Calm down, okay? God, Steve, I’m sorry. You’re allowed to be scared. Hell, everyone gets scared sometimes… The thought just never crossed my mind. I’m sorry, I’m such an idiot,” Tony apologized and stood up, walking towards Steve, placed a hand on his shoulder and squatted down next to him, their eyes meeting each other. 

“So, you want to tell me what’s scaring you, hm?”

Steve wiped his face when a tear slowly escaped. 

“I’m just scared to go to sleep, Tony. Every time I close my eyes, all I hear is screams and explosions and then suddenly I can’t move. It’s like my body is tied, restricted… And I don’t know if it’s my subconscious telling me that I shouldn’t fall asleep because…” Steve took a moment to breathe. “Because I’m scared… of falling asleep. Or maybe more of waking up somewhere I don’t know or recognize… again,” Steve voice broke at the last word.   
Tony realized he had been staring the entire time when Steve’s gaze shifted to him and his glassy eyes glared directly into Tony’s. 

“M’sorry… You shouldn’t have to listen to all my pathetic crap,” Steve broke the eye contact when the silence became slightly uncomfortable and shifted in his seat. 

No one dared to say anything or move for a while. They just sat there in the dimmed lights, Tony’s hand still placed delicately on Steve’s shoulder. All of a sudden, however, Tony felt the larger man’s body twitch followed by the sound of a catching breath and Steve muttering a hurried shit. Out of the corner of his eyes, he saw Steve bury his face in the crook of his elbow and turn away from him.

“Huh.. ehh! uh-huhTChushh! Oh God- snff! h’UHh… UhhIShiew!” Two strong sneezes escaped and launched him into a small coughing fit that left him breathless. 

“Ugh, snff! Excuse mbe,” he mumbled and wiped his nose in the cuff of the soft sweater. “Sorry, I’mb such a mbess.”

“Don’t worry about it. Can’t complain about the fact that you seem too worn out to outwit me,” Tony bantered and gained an eye-roll form Steve. “Bless you, by the way.”

Steve responded with a frail nod and an acknowledging hum. He rubbed at his face and Tony began to realize just how shattered Steve looked. Sure, he’d noticed the bleary eyes and the pinkish tint to his cheeks, but in this moment he saw small beads of perspiration on his forehead and the dark bags under his eyes.

His curiosity got the better of him and slowly he moved his hand from Steve’s shoulder and softly placed the back of his hand to his cheek. He immediately withdrew it, like had he stuck his hand into a flame and burned himself. 

“Geez, Cap, you’re burning up!” he gasped. 

“Oh, no- Don’t worry, Tony. I always run hot,” Steve said hastily. “S’not so bad… just a slight temperature, I think. Probably just cold though,”

Tony was surprised that Steve actually confessed to feeling off, but then again, Steve wouldn’t risk anyone else catching whatever he’d come down with just because he didn’t want to admit defeat. 

“I’m pretty certain that’s a fever, Spangles. I didn’t know you couldn’t get sick anymore… Y’know, with all the steroids they gave you,” Tony gestured to Steve’s muscular body.

“Huh?” Steve cocked his head and Tony figured he didn’t catch his joke.

“The injections, the serum,” he explained and Steve mouthed a silent oh.

Steve gave it a second thought, then shrugged. “Neither did I. Probably the lack of sleep that’s finally catching up with me.”

God, just how bad were Steve’s sleeping problems? The Steve he knew would never show this much vulnerability, especially not in Tony’s company.  
“Don’t you think it’s probably for the best if you actually try to rest?” Tony requested, crossing his arms. 

“You’re not one to speak, Stark.” Tony unwillingly had to agree with his statement and gave small shrug. 

A short quietness filled the room and, for once, it wasn’t awkward between the two of them. Their confessions seemed to have broken that barrier.   
“Well, as your fellow insomniac, why don’t we go watch a movie or something. Like I said, ‘sleep is overrated,’” Tony gave a quick glance over his shoulder, referring to the living room. 

“Sure… why not,” Steve smiled tiredly and propped himself up from the chair. As he stood, his body wobbled, and he quickly leaned against the nearest wall to balance himself. Tony was there in a split second, stabilizing the bigger man.  
“God dammit, Cap. You’re totally out of it, aren’t you?” Tony worried.

Steve waved the brunette off. “M’ fine, Tony. Y’ don’t need to-“. Steve didn’t get to finish his sentence before dizziness overtook him once again and stumbled slightly. 

Tony grabbed Steve by the bicep, pressing his fingers into the muscle. Gosh, Tony thought. He knew Steve was 220 pounds of pure muscle, but damn. Touching Steve’s upper arm was like hitting a brick. Tony was sure that if there ever would be a live-action Hercules movie, Steve would get the role in a heartbeat. Everything seemed to add up: his incredibly muscular build; his piercing eyes, which were more blue than the clearest ocean; his golden hair, resembling a god perfectly; and lastly, his blinding smile and his plump lips, which Tony definitely didn’t want to kiss. Of course he didn’t, why would anyone think that? No, Steve’s lips were the last thing on earth Tony wanted to touch. The last thing. 

“Yeah you seem fine, Steve. This is exactly what ‘fine’ looks like,” Tony said rolling his eyes and slowly steered Steve towards the living room As soon as they reached the sofa, Tony nearly dropped the bigger man, who fell heavily into the soft fabric. 

Steve groaned and rubbed his temples. “So sorry, Tony. You- snff shouldn’t have to deal with me like this.”

“Good thing I’m such a patient and considerate guy then,” Tony smirked and sat down next to Steve, who was taking up about 90% of the space, his body sprawled all over the sofa. Steve realized this and began shuffling to make more room for the other man. 

“Ugh,” he groaned, “I’m so pathetic, it’s embarrassing.”  
Tony shrugged. “Stop worrying,” he said and Steve sent him a tired yet thankful smile. “I’ve seen you embarrass yourself on multiple occasions, Spangles, almost on the daily. This is no different,” he continued, at which Steve whimpered and rolled his eyes. 

“Thanks a lot, Stark. Just what I needed.”  
Tony chuckled and Steve pressed the heel of his hand into his eye, rubbing harshly. Tony felt a smile tugging at his lips, as if it wouldn’t go away even if he desperately tried to do so. 

“Yeah? Well, you’re welcome. I must say, however, I actually kinda like you this way,” Tony admitted and Steve looked quizzically at him, he brows furrowed. “You’re more… how do I say it without sounding like an asshole…”

“I think you passed that point, thanks a lot.” 

“I guess you’re right. In my defensive, my asshole-ness is my trademark. It makes me who I am. Pep always said it got me into a lot of trouble, though, and she wasn’t wrong, to be honest and- Wait, sorry, I’m just rambling now… I just meant to say you’re more… casual? Like you don’t have a stick up your butt.”

“Ouch,” Steve snorted. “You’re being awfully honest. Anything else about me you’d like to criticize?” 

“Oh, Rogers, you’re putting me on the spot. If you’d give me five minutes I could make you an entire presentation.”

Tony couldn’t help but notice the hint of hurt in Steve’s already watery eyes. Why on earth would he even say something like that? As if Steve didn’t feel bad enough being sad and lonely and sleep deprived and dammit Tony, the guy’s sick. Tony was slapping himself internally. 

“Fuck… I didn’t know why I said that. I’m sorry, Cap, I didn’t me-.”

“Don’t-“ Steve held a hand up and interrupted the brunette. “It’s okay. I know. Like you said, it’s your trademark. You can charm your way out of anything. You’re witty, funny. I’ve always admired that about you. Wish I had a bit more of that myself.”

Tony smirked and raised an eyebrow. He leaned back comfortably in the sofa, suddenly feeling a lot better.

“Don’t get too cocky now, Stark. You’re still a smartass and it still pisses me off sometimes.”

They both laughed at that and the joy from the laughter was still hanging in the air even after the silence had settled. 

“I enjoy pissing all of you off, though. I feel like it’s becoming part of the job.”

The chuckled continued, warm and genuine, but suddenly launched Steve into a coughing fit. Tony watched concernedly and placed a comforting hand on Steve’s knee when he was left wheezing and gasping for air. Suddenly, he noticed at familiar sensation: Steve’s eyelashes fluttered and his eyes narrowed. His nose was twisting, rubbing his nostrils gently with his knuckles. He drew in a few shaky breaths, the next one more desperate than the one before, until he finally took a long and deep breath before giving in to the inevitable.

“huhh… uhhhUSChoo! uh.. huuUCHshh! Oh,” Steve sighed after two strong sneezes, which he caught in the crook of his elbow. His body had tensed without he had even noticed it and eventually, when he was sure he’s done, he fell back into the comfortable sofa.

“For Gods’ sake, Rogers. You just don’t anything by halves, do you? You sound terrible.”

Steve hummed grumpily in reply, then shivered, his entire body shaking.

“You cold? I can get blankets,” Tony offered.

“Oh- no, that’s okay. Thanks, though,” Steve smiled sincerely and Tony nodded back at him. Steve’s eyes slowly fluttered shut, but Tony could sense how the soldier was trying to resist the urge to close his eyes and his himself slip out of consciousness. Tony smiled sympathetically at Steve, his cheeks flushed, his nose bright red, hair ruffled and looking the messiest Tony’d ever seen and his lips a perfect shade of pink. 

Then Steve frowned and forced his eyes open, the frustration clear on his face. Tony felt a tug at his heart.

“C’mon, Rogers,” Tony started. “You’re sick, you need to let yourself rest. Please.”

“Tony, I- You know I can’t,” Steve said weekly, his voice so fragile. “I just can’t.”

Tony moved closer, his hand grabbing Steve’s shoulder firmly. “Listen to me, Steve. I know it can be scary, feeling like you’re loosing control, but let me tell you this. Right now, your fear is controlling you. And look what it’s done to you already, you look like you’re on your deathbed- Sorry, right, not helping. Anyways, you simply can’t keep doing this to yourself, or to the team really.”

Tony knew he was being a sneaky, manipulative little shit for dragging the team into the situation, they were Steve’s soft spot, but he forgave himself, it was in Steve’s best interest.

“I really hate it when you’re right, Stark,” Steve growled annoyedly. “Luckily, that’s a rare occasion.”

Tony smirked. “Did I just hear the Steve Rogers admit that I’m right? God, you’re definitely sick, I think we need to call Bruce.” They both laughed. 

“Go to sleep, Steve. I’ll be right here if you need me. I promise.”

“Thanks, Tony… Really. Thank you.”

Steve’s voice was so soft and sincere, Tony couldn’t help but get butterflies in his stomach. When Steve’s eyelids got heavier and heavier, and at last shut entirely, Tony just had to run his fingers through the soft, blonde hair. After a few minutes of just watching and appreciating the sight in front of him, everything got darker and within a minute or two, Tony was laying halfway on top of Steve, both of them fast asleep in each other’s arms. 

————————————

Tony was awoken by a loud alarm, his body jerking up into a half-sitting, half-lying position. He blinked rapidly, trying to gain focus after coming back to consciousness. He figured Steve was doing the same, as he also was looking confusedly around, seeming completely disorientated. 

“Shit,” Tony muttered under his breath as the realized the loud noice was the Avengers emergency-alarm. “JARVIS, what’s happening? What’s the time even?”

“The time is 7.18 AM, Sir. I’m sorry to disturb you and Captain Rogers, but it seems an emergency has occurred. Your assistance is needed,” The AI announced. 

Tony groaned and rubbed his temples, then quickly stood up and walked determined out of the room to get into the suit. Just as he reached the doorway he called over his shoulder, “Gear up, Cap, we’ve got a city to save.”   
Tony has seemingly forgotten all about the reason why they were both lying on the common room sofa, completely tangled up into each other. Steve whimpered and gave a shaky sigh followed by a harsh cough and a weak wheeze. He squeezed his eyes shut, then stood up, perhaps a bit too fast, as he stumbled and had to grab the sofa to keep himself from falling. He sighed once more, a deep breath, before exiting the room just like Tony had done 30 seconds earlier. 

————————————

“Guys, I need back up on 23rd,” Natasha called through the comms. She was still panting from beating up seven wolf-like aliens all on her own, only to see a stream of more than 20 new ones approaching. 

“On my way,” Steve responded, dodging multiple hits while running hastily down the street. When he escaped a larger group of attackers, he got a view of the city. Broken glass was covering the ground, the sunlight reflecting every once in a while, when he skimmed through a thick cloud of smoke. Fires were spread out everywhere, in the buildings, in the parks, on the pavements, some of them were small, others were tall flames leaving no hope for saving the matter. 

Steve heard nothing but white noise, a long screaming sound ringing in his ears, but he could see the tears when passing pedestrians, sense them sobbing and feel their fear — there was no need for any sound. Steve could hear them loud and clear. Shouting, whimpering, crying… He felt an ache in his chest, a thump, and he swallowed thickly, quickening his pace. 

He tried to only look forward. If he stopped running now, he wouldn’t reach Natasha in time, so he accelerated once more, frowning in tension. One, two, one, two, he counted inside his head, hoping to keep his mind off of the disastrous state of his surroundings. But fuck. Why was breathing so damn hard? Normally, Steve could run for hours without being short of breath or even breaking sweat. 

Now, however? He was wheezing, continuing to swallow the urge to cough and press his tongue to the roof of his mouth to control the itch that was building in his right nostril. He felt the congestion in his entire face, how he almost couldn’t breathe through his nose, how his eyes felt droopy and dry, how the area around his nose was slightly swollen. 

He just couldn’t focus. All he wanted was to be at home, at cup of tea in his hand and lying in his bed — maybe even sleep. Apparently sleeping wasn’t impossible when Tony was right there next to himself, giving off a warmth Steve hadn’t felt since before the ice. Closing his eyes, knowing he wasn’t alone, knowing Tony knew what was going on when he closed his eyes was so comforting. Steve hadn’t opened up to someone like that since Bucky had… since Bucky. 

Steve was well aware that he and Tony were very different, polar opposites some would say, but their conversation that morning had given Steve some kind of hope that they could set their differences aside and be friends. Maybe even more than friends if… No, Steve thought. No. Tony deserves better. 

“How far, Cap? I don’t know how much longer I can keep them off,” Natasha interrupted Steve’s inner monologue, her usual calm and cool voice seeming affected by concern. 

“I’ll be right there, Nat. I’m only- Ugh!” 

Through his peripheral vision, Steve noticed something blocking the light, a large shadow covering him. He instinctively turned his head to identify the objects, his eyes enlarging as a car was less than 3 metres away from him. The car sped up, driving Steve into a corner. Reactively, Steve threw himself back, regrettably smashing his head into the wall to avoid getting hit by the car, then fell to the ground with a hard landing. He heard a loud crack and winced at the pain coming from his ribs. Before he had anytime to compose himself, another large object was thrown at him from the car. Grabbing the shield, trying to cover himself, he rolled and dodged the object by a few feet.   
An explosion, powerful despite its humble size, sent splinters in every direction. The majority of Steve’s body had been covers by the shield, but he felt small shards prickling his legs through the holes in his suit like a needle. He cursed under his breath and slowly got up from the ground. Looking around, he heard nothing but his own wheezing breath, until the silence was broken by a loud bang. 

Steve looked around once more, searching for the source of the sound. Everything suddenly seemed to happen in slow-motion and a few seconds later, Steve felt a throb in his stomach and fell to his knees once again. He grabbed his waist and leaned against the wall. His breathing was fast, hitching, as he let out a painful grunt. 

“Cap? Cap, you there? Steve!”

Silence.

“Rogers! Answer us!” someone snapped though the comms. 

Steve drew in a shaky breath. “I’m-,” his voice broke, so he cleared his throat, “‘M o-okay. I, uh…”

He trailed off as he looked down and saw a red liquid oozing out from the wound, leaking through his fingers. He grabbed harder as another stab of pain ran through his body. He sat up against the wall, his vision became blurry. He was now panting, grunting in agony.

“Guys, Cap’s down. Send the med-team immediately. Now!”

Steve was sweating, beads peeping down his forehead, his hair wet and dark at the roots. He suddenly felt tired, his body numb apart from the ache in his abdomen. 

He had completely lost all sense of time, he had no idea how long had passed when he felt something snatch his shoulder. His narrowed his eyes, clearing his slurred sight. focussing. When he looked up, he was met by a pair of warm, brown eyes that were filled his worry and, to some degree, anger.

“T’ny?” Steve mumbled.

“In the flesh, Cap.”

“S’rry. I lost focus,” Steve apologized. 

Tony sighed and huffed a laugh. 

“Well, yeah, no shit… Geez, you’re burning up, we need to get you out of this,” Tony hissed as he touched Steve’s forehead with the back of his hand, then continued to feel each cheek. 

Steve wiggled away a little, feeling a bit embarrassed. He let out a whimper and looked down at his wound, then clenched his jaw, trying to ignore the pain.

“Fuck, Cap, you’re hurt. We need to get you to the med-wing.”

Steve just shook his head, but before ehe could even open his mouth to protest, Tony spoke up.

“There’s no discussion here, Steve. You’re hurt — and sick — you need medical attention, right now,” Tony said sternly. 

Steve wanted to object so badly, but he was too tired to response with anything else but a sigh and an irritated hum. He just continued looking directly into the eyes of the armoured man: shiny and comfortable and beautiful. All the noise and clatter around them seemed to fade out. Tony’s mouth was moving, yet it was inaudible to Steve. He felt how Tony’s grip got tighter, and Steve cracked a smile at how their bodies were so close, so connected.  
As his eyelids became heavier and heavier he blinked wearily until he reluctantly gave in to the darkness. 

————————————

Tony didn’t remember how long he was sat there, staring out into space, his eyes becoming dry from not blinking. His fingers were drumming nervously on the workshop table, a quirk he’d had for as long as he could remember — he always had to do something with his hands. He’d noticed how Steve did the exact same thing when they were in debrief after a mission (he could always tell Steve was getting impatient, but of course Captain Perfect kept composed), or whenever he got nervous or uncomfortable, which was often, maybe too often, and mostly caused by Tony or Clint when they said something inappropriate. He’d also notice how he’d duck and shake his head and smile shyly, his neck and ears flushing slightly pink and Tony lived for making Steve act like this. 

God, get it together Stark, Tony thought to himself and squeezed his eyes shut, pinching he bridge of his nose. He couldn’t stop thinking about Steve and how mad — furious — he was at him for not being careful enough. Then Tony got mad at himself, as he remembered how unwell and weak Steve had been before they’d been alerted, and Tony facepalmed himself internally for forgetting and letting Steve go fighting when he obviously was in no state to do so. Steve probably would’ve ignored him and gone fighting anyway, but at least Tony would’ve been able to cross his arms and say I told you so. 

It had been about six hours since the battle had ended, seven since Steve was injured and laid unconsciously in Tony’s arms. As soon as the med-team had showed up and the rest of the Avengers has finished up beating the Hydra-agents (when would Hydra stop bugging then, for god’s sake, Tony wondered annoyedly) and aliens Tony had flown back to the Tower, ignoring Fury and Hill and everyone else telling him to do the horrible post-battle debrief or search-and-rescue, which was usually Steve’s job. Steve would never complain and he usually volunteered to take care of the aftermaths, which Tony found incredibly irritating and really admirable. 

It was obvious how the Captain felt a lash of guilt whenever people got hurt in battle. He wanted to make sure everyone was safe. How he swallowed thickly and looked away to hide teary eyes when the stats were reported on the news. How he’d go to the gym and spend hours destroying the punching bags in anger at how he couldn’t save every single human on the planet. 

Steve spent so much time looking after others that he forgot to take care of himself and now he had been shot, broken multiple ribs, suffer a severe concussion and probably a lot of other smaller injuries Tony couldn’t recall. But the fact was that Steve was so unbelievably stupid and thick-headed. And sweet and caring and basically everything Tony wished to be. Tony groaned loudly and threw his head back, at which the bots reacted, startling their creator. 

“Fuck off,” Tony growled and Dum-E and U. 

He ran a hand through his greasy hair and sighed. When had Steve slipped his way into Tony’s mind like this? This wasn’t like Tony - Tony didn’t think of people like this! Ugh, fucking stupid, adorable, perfect Steve Rogers had infiltrated a literal genius’ mind, and Tony absolutely hated having to admit to it. 

After a few minutes of Tony staring directly into the ceiling while continuously giving himself shit for thinking of one well-known super-soldier, his inner dialogue was disturbed by JARVIS.

“Agent Romanoff is requesting access, Sir,” the AI announced.

“Access denied,” Tony grumbled crossly.

Much to his annoyance, he heard the sound of the door opening and a pair of heels stamping towards him. The redhead stopped a few feet in front of him and crossed her arms, accusingly raising one eyebrow.

“Traitor,” Tony muttered under his breath. “I thought I said access denied,” Tony repeated his precious statement.

“I apologize, Sir. Agent Romanoff has overridden your security code. I’m designed to allow all Avengers access if the code is overruled,” JARVIS explained.

“How did she- ugh, doesn’t matter… Who the hell designed you to allow that?” Tony exclaimed confusedly. 

“You did, Sir.”

“For fucks sake,” Tony complained, then sighed and eyed Natasha. “Why are you here?”

That came out harder than he had expected it to, but Tony was feeling too petty to do anything about it and just left it at that. 

She snorted. “Hello to you too, Stark.”

Tony didn’t reply, just frowned. Natasha sighed and her expression softened. Grabbing the nearest the nearest chair, she sat down and crossed her legs.  
“You okay?” she asked. Tony shrugged.

“No one blames you, Tony. You couldn’t have prevented it,” she said reassuringly. 

“Sorta seems like I could,” he mumbled and sighed. “How is he?”

Natasha tensed and rubbed her thighs uneasily.

“He’s… he’s okay, mostly. He looks horrible, though. Med-team put him on bed rest, which he wasn’t too pleased with.”

Tony huffed a laugh and scratched the back of his neck. 

“I would imagine… He’s probably the worst sick person ever. And now he’s injured too, which is just the icing on the cake, isn’t it?” 

Natasha laughed quietly. “Yeah… he seems miserable, to be honest. He just keep sniffling and sneezing. I’ve never seen him like this, Sam hasn’t either. He looks like he’s about too pass out from exhaustion. But he won’t sleep.” Her tone tuned more serious towards the end of the sentence. 

Tony swallowed thickly. Of course Steve wouldn’t even try to go to sleep. Tony didn’t care if Steve’s ramble last night was out of pure fatigue and delusion or if he genuinely trusted Tony. Tony hoped for the latter but wasn’t convinced. 

Steve had been pretty hazy and probably hadn’t meant for anyone to hear all that. Tony felt guilty for being happy Steve had shared his feelings, but for once, Tony believed the two of them could actually get along, not bickering about all the small irrelevancies. 

“He’s been asking for you, by the way. He’s… worried about you” 

Huh. Tony felt odd… Steve was injured and probably fully drugged-up and presumably not conscious enough to think clearly, but Tony couldn’t ignore the slight satisfaction of knowing that Steve thought about him, even when he had so much else to be concerned about. But of course, no one could know that, so Tony just rolled his eyes.

“The guy’s got a gunshot wound the size of my fist, broken multiple bones and is nursing a concussion just to top it off, and he’s worried about me? That’s ridiculous.”

“I know… That’s Steve for you,” she smiled fondly. 

“He’s an idiot. A fucking sacrificing, self-destructive idiot,” Tony tried to sound angry, but both of them knew he couldn’t really be angry at Steve. Steve was just too honorable for his own good.

“I don’t disagree… But he’s our idiot,” she simplified and Tony hummed in agreement. 

A silence settled over them, the workshop completely quiet once again. They looked deeply into each other’s eyes, a meaningful glance that Tony didn’t know he had needed, but apparently he had ‘cause his demeanor eased when she laid a comforting hand on his arm. 

“He really wants to see you, though. You were the first one he asked for.”

“You were there when he woke up?” Tony asked and she nodded almost imperceptibly in reply.

“Go,” she demanded and signaled towards the door. 

Tony hesitated and frowned. He opened his mouth to say something but never got the chance to speak before Natasha nearly pushed him off his chair.  
“Go!” She encouraged once more.

Tony smiled slightly as he stumbled out of the chair, headed for the door and made his way to Steve’s floor. 

————————————

The elevator doors opened directly into the living space when it reached Steve’s floor. Tony walked out cautiously, trying to keep quiet. He didn’t even know why, it wasn’t like he didn’t want Steve to know he was coming. 

As he stood there, he surveyed the room. He hadn’t been visiting Steve’s floor very often, but it looked just like how he’d imagined it: tidy, organized and depressingly empty. Everything seemed to have its place. The few paintings that were on the walls hung perfectly straight; the kitchen was exemplarily clean, not a single plate was in the sink (Tony couldn’t relate); the pillowed sat flawlessly in the couch, which looked like it had never been used. It was almost surgical how impeccable the room looked, and Tony’s heart ached at how impersonal it was. The only sign of life was the used tissues that were scattered randomly around the room. 

“Cap?” Tony called out.

He was met by silence.

“Cap, you in here?” he tried once more.

Still no response. He moved further into the apartment, examining the room as he went on. Running a finger over the sideboard surface, checking for dust, which just confirmed Tony’s thoughts. Exemplarily clean. He did, however, notice a piece of paper that was folded into a small square. Tony looked over his shoulder before reaching out for it and unfolding it. The paper was wrinkled and delicate and old, like had it been crumpled up far too many times. 

When Tony got a look at the content, he immediately understood. Damn, he thought to himself as his eyes ran over the photo of Steve and someone who Tony presumed was Bucky Barnes. Steve looked… different. Skinnier and shorter, the photo was obviously taken before the serum, but he was still immensely beautiful and the smile on his face was unlike any of the smiles Tony had ever seen from him. It was wry and crooked and sweet and authentic. It was real, it made Tony dizzy and giddy, and he suddenly felt an egoistical desire to make Steve smile like that again.

Then he heard some shuffling from one another room, quickly folded the picture and put it back in place. He slowly made his way into the corridor, listing carefully to identify the source of the sounds. He narrowed his eyes in concentration when the shuffles were replaces by sniffles and catching breath.

“uhh… hu- uhH! huhh? uhhISh’oo!! snffSNff! Huh… huhEschh! snff!” 

The sneezes were followed by a pained whimper and Tony wanted to resist the urge to barge in through the door and take care of him, but he just couldn’t. Fortunately he had a little self-control and opened the door to Steve’s bedroom quietly and peaked through the opening.

The wounded soldier was sat hunched over on his bed, clutching his torso and clenching his jaw. (Tony was sure he could cut himself on Steve’s jawline — so strong, so sharp and Tony wanted to run his fingers over it softly, caressingly. Wait- no! He did not.) Steve was wearing sweatpants and that same sweater he had worn in the kitchen the night before, his hair was wet and messy, and Tony could see the flush in his cheeks and how his nostrils were rough and pink, like had they been abused by too many tissues and probably the cuff of the sweater as well. 

Tony knocked rhythmically on the door and it creaked as he opened it wider. Steve looked up in surprise with his mouth hanging slightly open.

“Hey there, stranger,” Tony smirked and walked towards the bed. 

“Tony,” Steve croaked then cleared his throat. “Um… hu- y-you really shouldn’t be here right now. Uhh…uh-huhTChushh!” 

He sneezed off to the side, away from Tony, coughed harshly and winced wretchedly afterwards. He let out a whine as he breathed in short and fast breaths as if every inhale was sending a thousand needles into his stomach.

Steve’s eyebrows drew together in discomfort, which Tony, even though he wasn’t a genius when it came to body language, noticed immediately and sat down next to Steve and comfortingly laid an arm around the broad shoulders and placed the other on top of Steve’s own hand that was attached to his ribs. 

“At ease soldier,” Tony mumbled and gently stroked the other man’s arm.

“You’re pathetic. And a selfish asshole, by the way” Tony continued when Steve’s expression became less tense. 

Steve smiled wryly. “Thanks a lot, Stark. Nothing’s new then,” he said and cocked and eyebrow at which Tony rolled his eyes.

“Don’t try to be smart here, Rogers. If you weren’t already hurt, I’d punch you so hard I’d break my own hand,” he snarled half seriously, half jokingly.

“Hm,” Steve hummed. “So are you gonna tell me why I’m in trouble? snFF!”

“You really don’t know? Wow, you’re even more stupid than you look, Capsicle,” Tony commented when Steve shook his head.

“And you’re apparently a bigger asshole than one would think,” Steve clicked his tongue and Tony smirked smugly. “Not that I don’t want your company Stark, but um… I have some work to do, so-“

Steve wiggled his way out of Tony’s embrace and used the edge of the bed as support when he stood up. He turned away from Tony, who had let out an annoyed sigh when the soldier had moved, not wanting to have to deal with the reacting he knew was coming. As he approached the door, he felt a sharp pain in his abdomen and clasped his side. 

“For Gods’ sake, Rogers!” Tony exploded as he raised from the bed, and Steve jumped. “Will you please you give yourself a break for once? I’m so fucking tired of you acting like this!”

“Acting how?” Steve asked through gritted teeth. 

Tony threw his hands up in frustration, then pulled his hair tightly, eyes widening. “Like this, like you’re okay when you’re obviously not!” 

Tony gestured at Steve’s bruise and bandaged body.

“Tony, please stop, I’m fi-“

“Shut up. Shut. Up! Don’t say you’re fucking fine, Steve. Everyone knows you’re not. And for the record, you’re an idiot. A stupid, inconsiderate, self-sacrificing idiot, who never thinks before he acts this recklessly. You could’ve died out there. Yeah- hey, don’t look at me like that, Rogers. Do you ever consider what could happen when you go into a fight when you’re in no state to do so? Huh? I don’t think you do, ‘cause then you’d know how fucking ignorant that is. I don’t want your death on my conscience so you better stop being a careless, selfish ‘hero’.”

Tony stopped to breathe and realized he’d just stood there and nearly screamed at Steve for about a minute. His sight had turned blurry and his entire body was shaking, his lower lip quivering intensely. 

None of them dared to move, both waiting for the other one to speak up first. Steve’s jaw was clenched once again, the way he always clenches it and Tony hates it because he can’t read it. He doesn’t know what it means — it has so many meaning, he’s learned. He does it when he’s in pain, or when he’s nervous, or angry, or sad and, Tony thinks, maybe even when he’s scared. And Tony doesn’t know which of Steve’s clenches he would prefer right now. 

Steve’s gaze that had been directed right into Tony’s eyes now wandered around the room. His hands were rubbing against his thighs and he was biting the inside og his cheeks. Nervous, Tony concluded. He’d seen Steve this way, observed him, enough times that even though his clenched jaw was ambiguous, Tony would always recognize his nervous ticks. Not that he had spent a lot of time does said thing. No, it was just that Steve often was nervous… yeah, that’s why.

Steve looked up for a second, his eyes were sorrowful and apologetic.  
“M’sorry, Tony…” Steve mumbled quietly. His voice was thin, on the edge of breaking. “But y-you really shouldn’t huh! be h-here riihh right now,” Steve spoke through catching breaths, hurrying out the last part of the sentence before letting out a soft TShhoo!

“First of all, this is my tower, you don’t get to tell me where I can and cannot be. Second of all, why is it so hard for you to let anyone care for you?” 

Steve cracked a small smile at first, but his expression quickly crumbled once again. 

“I… snf! You really don’t have to worry, I’m fi- ugh,” another throb in his ribs sent a wave of torment through Steve’s upper body, bending him in half with one hand resting on his knee while the other was fastening his side. Tony was quick to support him, carefully guiding him back to the bed.

“Yeah, you’re fine, I get it. Now sit down you lunatic.”

Steve slumped down into the softness of the bed and nodded a thanks at Tony.   
“I appreciate your help, Stark, but I can take care of myself,” he said, earning a huffed laugh from Tony.

“You’re the worst at taking care of yourself, Rogers. And that’s a lot coming from me. Why are you so damn stubborn?”

“Will you please just leave it Stark?” Steve scowled. 

“No, Cap! I won’t.”

Steve sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Why are you wasting your time here, Tony?” Steve shook his head in confusion. “You don’t care about me. No one actually cares about me, Tony. All they care about is stupid Captain America.”

Now Tony was the one who’s uncomfortable. He swallowed hard. God, was he going to do this? Was he going to tell Steve? 

“That’s not true, Steve.”

Just then, Steve looked up, clearly puzzled.

“How the hell would you know?” 

Tony sighed and scratched his neck. It was now or never.

“Because I care, Steve.” There it was. “I care about you so much it hurts. And I don’t like it, cos’ I don’t do this catching-feelings-thing.”

Steve’s jaw dropped, his mouth hanging slightly open, as if he wanted to say something, but Tony held up a hand to stop him.

“Don’t. I just want to say something… Look, Steve. You and I both know that I’m a mess, kinda like you right now. I’m stubborn. I can’t keep my mouth shut and I say things I know I shouldn’t say. I’m inconsiderate and egoistical and I don’t care for anyone else. Or so I thought until about 24 hours ago. The point is that I care about you Steve. Hell, I freaking love you. No- I’m not done yet. I don’t expect you to reciprocate my feelings. I know I’m not easy to love, but I just… I wanted you to know… That I care.”

The silence made Tony even more nervous. Shit, he thought. He had just rambled and said everything he felt and Steve probably didn’t like him back, and he hadn’t prepared an escape plan for when Steve broke his heart.

“You’re right, Tony. You’re not… You infuriate me like no one else. You drink way too much coffee and never listens to my orders, snff! To anyone’s orders, in fact. You’re a pain in my ass,” Steve listed and Tony could only nod in agreement. “But you’re also generous. You do care about the people you love. I know the reason you work so much is because you want to help. And yes, we clash and we argue, just like right now, but you bring out the best, a- snf! and sometimes the worst in me. But I wouldn’t have it any other way… I love you too, Tony.”

Tony stood tongue-tied and stared at Steve. That was unexpected. “Wait, what?” 

“I love you,” Steve repeated, his face was serious as he grabbed Tony’s hand and pulled him closer until they both sat on the bed, looking directly into each other’s eyes. 

Tony was apprehensive as his fingers intertwined with Steve’s.

“So you, Steve Rogers hot-as-fuck and super sexy, hunky super-soldier,” Tony’s hand moved uncontrollably, gesturing at Steve’s body, “are in love… with me?” 

Steve ducked his head and chuckled as he gave Tony’s hand a squeeze. When he looked up, his eyes were sparkling. They were still red-rimmed and he still looked worn out, but something had changed. 

“I am. Very much so.” 

Tony felt his cheeks flush and smiled like a giddy teenage girl. “That makes this so much easier for me,” he whispered as he leant in softly placed his lips on Steve’s. One hand was cupping the soldier’s cheek, the other one still squeezing his tight. 

Steve’s lips were soft and had a sweet taste, just like Tony had imagined and they matched his perfectly, as if they were made for each other. It started off slow and gentle but grew more passionate by the second, their hand suddenly fiddling all over each other. Tony reckoned things would’ve progressed even further had Steve not pulled away.

“Sorry… We shouldn’t be doing this,” he whispered, leaning his forehead against Tony’s. “You’ll get sick.”

Tony smiled fondly. How hadn’t he noticed how amazing Steve was before now? “You sound like you think I care about getting sick.”

Steve chuckled and shook his head affectionately. “Oh, I know you don’t. But I do. snf! And I’m probably not in the best of state to… y’know… right now,” he smiled wryly. Tony had completely forgotten about the fact that Steve had literally been shot.

“Fuck,” he cursed under his breath, “I’m so sorry, Steve. I should probably just, like, let you get some sleep. No work.” Tony stood up and shot the wounded soldier a serious look at which Steve laughed, still holding Tony’s hand.   
“Or you could, maybe, just… do go?”

Tony felt something in his stomach lurch and wondered how Steve had managed to sweep him off his feet in the matter of 24 hours. 

“Only if you promise to rest and let me take care of you,” he wiggled his eyebrows at Steve, who was rolling his eyes but chuckled lightly.

“Manipulative asshole… snf! but I think I could be persuaded to oblige just this once.” 

Tony lips curled into an affectionate smile as he sat back down. 

“Just this once, huh?” He slowly bent forward, his face nearing Steve’s who stayed still.

“Tony, I-“ Steve started but Tony cut him off.

“Shhh… stop speaking, Steven,” he purred as he placed a tender kiss on Steve’s cheek, pulling him into a warm embrace. As held held onto him, his arms barely reaching all the way round Steve’s broad frame, he gently pushed Steve backwards until they were both lying down in each other’s arms. They didn’t speak, just listened to the way they harmonized as they breathed in unison. Tony found a comfort in hearing the proof of life that followed every in- and exhale. Slowly he felt his eyelids grow heavier and closed a few moments later. He still listened attentively to the way Steve’s breath evened out. It was so peaceful, and Tony happily thought to himself that nothing could take the calm away. 

That was until he suddenly heard small, desperate gasp and felt Steve shuffle out of his hold.

“T- Toohhny, sn! I gooh- gotta,” Steve spoke through hitching breath. 

Tony’s eyes fluttered open and slowly released Steve from his grip but kept a comforting hand on Steve’s arm as the blonde sat up, his breath caught and he buried his face in the crook of his elbow.

“Bless you,” Tony said preemptively.

“huh… snff! huuishh’uh! heh- eishh’ew” snfsnf… h’USHhh! Ow…”  
Steve doubled over as the sneezes overcame, the last one particularly strong and leaving Steve breathless as he winced and let out a painful grunt, a hand clenched to his ribs.

“Bless you. Bless you… God bless you, Steven,” Tony spoke softly as he carefully stroked Steve’s abdomen from behind him. 

“Sorry, I-… this is horrible. I don’t know what’s wrong with me,” Steve sighed, scrubbing his face with his hands. 

Tony placed a soft kiss to Steve’s shoulder and nuzzled his face into the side his neck.

“It’s okay to let your guard down for once in your life, Steve. You’re sick, you need to relax… and, oh my god I’m gonna regret saying this later, but you’re surprisingly cute when you’re not so uptight,” Tony whisper and Steve could catch the undertones of a smile in his voice.

“I can’t believe me being sick, and sniffly, and sneezy and gross makes you think I’m cute,” he shook his head lightly, huffing a laugh. 

“Yeah, me neither. I think it’s because you can’t keep up with my wit when,” Tony joked, nudging Steve slightly.

“Yeah? You just wait a few days, I’ll be back to outwitting you in no time, Stark,” Steve quipped earning a laugh from Tony and Steve couldn’t help blush at how the soft chuckle was like the most beautiful melody he could imagine.

Tony Stark was used to posing in front of the cameras, giving his best toothy smile, making conversation with everyone. He went to galas and fundraisers, wearing some of world’s most expensive suits and looking as glamorous, if not more than a Hollywood-actor on the red carpet. Point is, Tony was used to keeping up a facade and adapting his demeanor to fit the genius-billionaire reputation. 

Not a lot of people could tell the difference between the role he played and the real man that was behind the sharp exterior. But Steve could. 

Steve had always hated the way Tony forced a smile in front of the cameras, how he was putting up an act. It was in times like this, quiet and intimate, that Steve could feel the warmth and sincerity that exuded from him, how has smile was smaller and a bit crooked but so much more real and so much more Tony. Whenever he managed to get that side out of Tony, Steve’s heart would flutter and think to himself that maybe, just maybe, he could be good enough for him and Steve would feel a wave of happiness that he hadn’t felt in a very long time.  
That’s how he felt in this instant. To hear Tony’s laugh, knowing he was he reason behind it, was more rewarding than anything else Steve could imagine. 

“Come on, lay back down,” Tony murmured as he pulled Steve back until he laid comfortably on the bed. “Get some rest.”

For once, Steve didn’t protest. He obliged, shuffling into his preferred sleeping position, on his side, curling into himself and closed his eyes. He let out a relieved sigh and Tony could visibly see the way Steve’s body relaxed into the soft fabric and huddled closer to Tony, who couldn’t help but smile a how small he looked.

“Tony?”

“Hm? Yeah?”

Steve held Tony’s hand a little tighter, giving it a squeeze. 

“Can you, like, maybe… will you stay, tonight? Please,” Steve begged, frowning in suspense as he waited for Tony to answer. However, his expression softened as soon as he felt a tickling breath behind his ear and a pair of lips brushing his cheek.

Before definitively answering, Tony took one last glance the gorgeous face he so suddenly had fallen in love with. His forehead was covered in a thin layer of fever-induced sweat. He had dark circles under his eyes, a clear indication of just how badly he needed to sleep. His nostrils were still twitching ever so slightly and he sniffed quietly as he tugged himself closer to the duvet. 

Tony had never imagined that he would fall in love with the man he had both idolized and hated when growing up, but then again, he never thought good things could actually happen to him. But this. This was more than Tony could ever hope for. 

He laid down next to Steve, wrapping an arm around his waist, letting the bigger man be the little-spoon, and he instantly felt sure that this would be the best night’s sleep the two insomniacs would’ve had in a very long time. 

“I’ll stay. Of course I will.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!


End file.
